


in which victor is punished

by possumsrus



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Awkwardness, Crack, Humiliation, M/M, Punishment, Short, Voyeurism, Why Did I Write This?, ZsaszMask, and the oc who only exists for plot purposes, i would like to formally apologize to victor zsasz, sort of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28252815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possumsrus/pseuds/possumsrus
Summary: A new employee of the Black Mask is subjected to more of Roman and Victor's personal life than he ever bargained for.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	in which victor is punished

Tyler hesitantly scuffed his feet against the expensive tile floor in front of the door to Roman Sionis’ personal quarters at the Black Mask Club. He was a new recruit, and had barely interacted with his new employer as it stood. That was, apparently, destined to change. This morning, when he came into work in his usual sufficiently ominous dark grey clothes, he had been practically accosted by his new coworkers and given the knowledge that there was some sort of Very Important Envelope that needed to be delivered to Roman, immediately. Now, Very Important Envelope clutched in his shaking hands, Tyler debated the merits of wasting any more time worrying about what might happen when he opened those doors. He had heard the many horror stories that the staff swapped about the man’s tantrums and his right hand man’s tendency to calm him with extreme violence carried out against the offending party. Tyler sure as shit didn’t want his face neatly peeled off and tossed carelessly out of one of the many stained windows, splattering against the unforgiving asphalt below like a discarded fruit peel.

He needn’t have worried about Victor’s control over the situation, however. He realized that fact when he took a deep, stuttering breath and shoved open the ornate wooden doors. The scene that was unfolding before him was far more ridiculous than even the most outlandish stories he’d heard, so much so that he had to stifle a disbelieving laugh as he stumbled into the room, drawing the attention of both the men already occupying it. 

Roman Sionis held court in his usual place, at the center of an obnoxiously long dining table. Roman, for once and probably to his chagrin, was not what caught Tyler’s attention. At the very end of the dining table, next to the chair he’d usually be slouching in, was Victor Zsasz. Today, he was fully divorced from the baggy outfits that usually smothered his body, wearing only a short white apron with an absurd amount of ruffles and tight black briefs underneath. The rumors were true, then. Victor  _ did  _ have scars criss crossing every inch of his body. He was scrubbing at the ground in front of him diligently with a rag. Strangest of all, he wore a studded leather collar that was clipped to a chain which was then fastened to the table leg. In his present position, Victor had to pull the chain taut so he could reach the spot he was working on. He seemed somewhat disgruntled by the whole situation, but honestly more casual than Tyler might have expected, under the circumstances.

At the sound of the door clicking open. Victor glanced up, then pulled futilely at his apron to make an effort to cover his exposed thighs. It didn’t work, and the resulting rosy hue of humiliation was almost enough to make Tyler feel bad for the man in front of him. Victor looked plaintively at his boss, but Roman made no move to help. Instead, he focused his piercing, icy gaze on Tyler.

“Explain to me why you’re in here, ‘kay?”

“What’s he doing?” Tyler asked, completely abandoning his original plan and the reason he was there in the first place. 

“Cleaning up after himself,” Roman smirked.

“Boss…” Victor began, thoroughly uncomfortable and practically whining at his employer.

“No!” Roman said, sternly, before easing into a softer, more mocking tone, “No, you knew what the consequences were for tracking blood back in here  _ again.  _ And you did it anyway.”

“Didn’t know anyone else was gonna be here t’ witness ‘em,” Victor muttered, his gaze landing on the tile before his knees.

“Well, neither did I,” Roman countered, “Which brings me back to my first question. What the fuck are you doing in here?”

Tyler gulped. Roman was smiling, thin and mean, which was never a good sign. He didn’t need to be as close to his boss as Zsasz was to know that much. In lieu of a response, Tyler held the Important Envelope out in front of him like a shield.

“Bring it here, then,” Roman said, with a long suffering sigh. Tyler drew closer and dropped it onto the table next to the man’s plate. 

Unsure of what to do next, Tyler lingered in front of Roman as he pulled a piece of paper from the Envelope and scanned it. Slowly, he stopped and looked up Tyler, expectantly. When he got no response, Roman’s eyebrows furrowed impatiently.

“What are you waiting for, a tip? C’mon, then, get out!”

Tyler did so, gratefully. It was only when he had left Roman’s sight, leaning against the wall outside his room, that Tyler allowed himself to think. And think he did.

What the fuck just happened?

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to my boyfriend for consulting on whether or not this counts as voyeurism. the fact that we came to no conclusion is irrelevant.


End file.
